And one day, your name didn’t make me smile anymore.
Realizing I deserved better changed everything.
I want to forget everything you told me. I want to wash away how uncertain you made me. How scared I was of losing you. How I lost you anyway. I don’t want to know how your hands feel or what makes you smile. I don’t want to see you in photos, familiar like a dream I had once or a book I never finished. I don’t want to speak about you in snippets or think about how I behaved. Or know that I still think about it. Or know that you’re not just a lamp or a blade of grass, indistinguishable from the rest.
friend: hey r u ok
me: yeah im just tired
*tired of dealing with ur shit*
Would ‘sorry’ have made any difference? Does it ever? It’s just a word. One word against a thousand actions.
Between what is said and not meant
And what is meant and not said
Most of love is lost
بين منطوق لم يقصد
و مقصود لم ينطق
تضيع الكثير من المحبة
It’s a lot easier to be angry at someone than it is to tell them you’re hurt.